In my words

Irrelevant

Irrelevant: something which is not important or needed.

________________________________

Sleep? What is that?

The grump on her face showed through her frown. The lips pressed in irritation. Each morning was a sign to live another day, tolerate the annoyance it would have to provide. Workaholic though she was, it was not something she enjoyed. One stress to forget the other, the scent of caffeine and alcohol alike under the wooden walls of her chambers.

Morning hangover? Very likely. The bags under her eyes didn't make much difference to her. Why would it? It wasn't like anyone would even try to court her. In the time and age she lived in, ethnicity mattered and hers would just drive away the only few who actually considered her. Being a commoner meant attracting the wrong attention of every noble and having the hard earned opportunities taken away.

How revolting.

Man may be on top of the food chain but they certainly know how to be the lowest, even a carnivorous is willing  to raise a child of a rabbit out of its maternal heart. Licking each other's wounds and protecting each other. Expressing affection with no ill-will or ulterior motive.

Humans truly are the worst trash out there.

Or so was her belief. Who could blame her? She grew up in a poor commoner's family, each day fighting; whether it was on the streets to earn a penny to buy a night's meal or to save herself from her abusive family. Humans were the kind of being who would sell out their own innocent children to fill their own bellies. One may beg to differ, saying poetic phrases like, "A father would fight a king to save his daughter, a mother would sell herself to quench her son's thirst." But was it really so? She was a survivor- which meant she had to do everything by herself, whether it was to earn a meal or to climb up the ladder of society.

Pen. Pen was the name she gave herself. In a sudden strock of anger, her mother decided to slap the young Pen who simply asked what her mother was doing by going out to meet men in the middle of the night, the words that her mother uttered that day echoed in her ears. To this day, she cannot erase the disgusted expression her mother had decided to show her on that very night. 7 years old Pen was looked down with a look of disgust and hate, brows raised in disbelief and annoyance, lips curving up in much assured disgust when her mother let her mouth do the talking to a small child. "Die in a ditch, you burdensome child. Do you want to take even this pleasure away from me?!"

Even though she was just an affection starved seven years old child, it was obvious even to her. Obvious how much her mother was not her mother. Clearly all her father cared for, was the occasional sex with her mother and all her mother cared for was the money given to her after the so-called romantic night. But despite that, Pen had believed that having a roof over her head meant that her parents cared, even just a little but they did- for they never kicked her out. That night Pen realized one thing clearly-

They didn't love their child. What they cared for was the labour she did for them.

Her father didn't look at her and her mother didn't speak of her. To anyone. That sentence was the realisation of how much she was relied on the people who gave so little significance to her. They wouldn't care if she just packed her silly little luggage and left them, instead they would think- "Good riddens." But she knew that more than anyone else, if she stayed for the measly love she so starved for, one day she'll be nothing but a hallow husk made to bottle up misery and abuse. They would use her as a floor mat and walk all over her. A child like her did not know what would benefit her, perhaps it was because she was a child who never experienced affection, it was easy to leave her parents. Perhaps...